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2003-03-12 | 12:07 a.m.
corduroy licorice was beyond the pale. he decided to darken his milky white skin by going to a tanning salon. sure, that look had worked for him most of his life, but now wanted the world to get a load of "malibu corduroy."
today held a couple of pleasant surprises. first of all, i got a note from the last great date guy who had seemed to evaporate after our first offline outing. i went to check my personal e-mail and as the in-box page opened, i thought, as i have before a few other times, "gee, wouldn't it be something if that guy wrote after all this time? haha! silly fool, i am." but this time he had.
it was a short, polite note that apologized for the delay in responding. it also mentioned that he had enjoyed meeting me, but had since started seeing someone. in closing, he wished me the best of luck.
this missive lifted my spirits a bit. oh sure, i'm still disappointed things stalled after one date, but it was nice to hear that i had not imagined that he had had a jolly good time conversing with me (although i was two margaritas to the wind by the end of the evening and may have been overestimating the mutual joviality). it also made me happy to know that there are still some good manners being kept out there in the big city. it probably wasn't an easy note for him to compose, but it was very appreciated on the receiving end.
gee, now i feel kind of bad about burning that effigy of him on the blackest of march midnights. ah, well. live, learn.
another nice thing about today was that my boss complimented me in front of a jury of my peers. that felt darn good. he even read a little paragraph i'd written aloud for them. quite a treat, peekaboo street. maybe that moon wobble's getting its shocks adjusted as we speak.
saturday night was a humdinger of sorts. a single girlfriend and i conduct a bimonthly manhunt in local establishments offering tasty libations and hunky sensations. translation: bars with drinks and dudes.
we have not met with much success. oh, we've chatted up a few blokes. charmed a few others. even disarmed one young man. but overall, we haven't been closing deals. this weekend we almost made it into escrow.
as real estate agent's always say, it's all about location. we perched upon two well-positioned barstools and held court the rest of the evening. actually, my long-haired partner in crime was doing most of the work. i felt a bit off my game, so just offered color commentary. i did manage to excite the 50-something bartender by licking the sugared rim of my lemon drop glass to the point that he made a semi-offensive joke. i laughed it off, but still got an apologetic refill from him when he regretted going blue.
by the end of the evening, my sidekick had the almost elderly husband half of the musical act on stage mouthing "i love you" to her. he later hooked us up with two dark-haired guys who'd been flashing hundred dollar bills earlier. they had a table up front and fancy threads. i was leery at first, but they turned out to be ok guys. except when the one asked if i had cats. plural. that can't be good. he made amends by complimenting my taste in music. nice save, wiseguy.
it was fun to flirt after a long hiatus and feel the power of femme again. during a break in the action, i visited the ladies' room. another woman was in there in front of the mirror. she was wearing the kind of sunglasses that blind people do. when i walked in, she started talking to me in a really droll tone of voice.
"hi," she said, "how's your mother doing?"
"pardon?" i asked, feeling a bit taken aback.
"how's your mother doing?" she asked again, this time removing her sunglasses as she looked at me.
"oh--did you think--i was--someone else?" i hazarded, suddenly realizing that she might have impaired vision. in retrospect, i think she was just high off her ass.
"evita," she continued. "evita peron."
i decided to go with it, after all, we were alone in there together. didn't want to set her off or anything.
"i was evita once for halloween." i offered with a grin.
"madonna," she pronounced, still staring in my direction. "like a virgin. duran duran. river through a dusty land."
"yep," i gulped as i slipped behind the sanctuary of a stall door.
she exited the facility without further incident, as did i. i also exited without any phone numbers, but enjoyed myself all the same, don't you know.
take a peek at these - (c) 2000-2003 nictate:
quibbling with quitherfeather
catcher in the wry